


The Art of the ‘Thank you’

by MallowGlade



Category: Violet Evergarden (Anime)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, No Sex, Non AU, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Slight Canon-Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 09:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14912942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MallowGlade/pseuds/MallowGlade
Summary: Violet is captured by the enemy, and who better to rescue her than the one man she trusts completely?





	The Art of the ‘Thank you’

The cold air brushing past Violet's face. The grass, illuminated by the dim light of a lone lantern. A cacophony of voices calling out, screaming. Waves and waves of faceless silhouettes. Blood coating the trees, the ground, her hands. Concentrate on the next move. Concentrate on the hands reaching towards me. Concentrate on moving away, on dodging. Don't think. Feel. Move on instinct. Cut. Slice. Rip. Slit.

 

She ran deeper into the forest, chasing the deserters. They must not report back. She glanced back at the chaos of bodies, alive and dead. The major was fighting, his face painted with concentration. He had the other at gunpoint. He would be safe as long as she did her job. Definitely. Bringing her mind back to the goal, she whipped her head back, descending into the darkness.

 

The musty, dust-filled scent of the forest enveloped her. The trees towered over her small stature, the thick canopy blocking the soft light of the moon. She closed her eyes, ears pricking with the silence, straining for the slightest noise that would give away the enemy's position.

Leaves rustled. Natural.

Wind whistled. Natural.

A slight crackle to the left, too loud for any small forest-dwelling mammal. Unnatural.

 

Her eyes snapped open, narrowing at the place at which she had heard the sound. A pitch-black shadow wavered, barely noticeable against the shadow of the tree. Turning her body, her blue orbs flickered and she gripped her knife tight in her fist. She slinked forward, almost like a cat, her knife flashing and her footsteps light. She held her breath as she jumped behind the tree, her golden hair fluttering behind her.

 

She felt a body underneath her, and by instinct, her knife was at his throat. He was helpless. As expected. But what she didn't expect was a group of highly armed men surrounding her. She had lost her gun, and the only weapon she had with her was a small knife. Looking up, she could tell she was outnumbered, outgunned and severely overpowered.

"Stop, or I'll kill him." Her emotionless voice rang out strong and sharp. But the men laughed.

"Go right ahead. He's just a slave. It doesn't matter to us."

"Hey, she's pretty cute, ain't she?"

"She's got a good figure."

"Wait, isn't she Leidenschaftlich's Soldier Maiden?"

"Oh, dangerous, aren't you?"

"We were hoping to catch someone, but what a find!"

"We'd better put her to sleep!" Suddenly, there was pressure on each of her limbs, enough to pin her down, enough to hurt. Then, a sharp, white-hot pain struck her cheek as she fell to the ground, darkness dredging her.

 

·    

 

Peeling open her eyelids, the dim light seemed almost blinding. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Cataloguing her surroundings as she was taught, she looked around.

Wrist and ankles tied to the wall, minimal movement available.

Gun and knife have been removed, as well as the hidden dagger in my boot.

A wooden wall, ceiling. A cottage or barn perhaps? Those were quite ubiquitous in these parts.

Light source: a small lantern across the room from my location. There is no light from outside, therefore, it has most likely only been a few hours or less since I was captured.

A few sticks and a rusty pitchfork in the far corner. Could be used as a potential weapon.

It is unlikely that a rescue attempt will come, and self-escape is recommended.

The screams and gunshots have ceased, so the battle has either finished or this location is far-

Her thoughts were cut short by a sinister laugh.

 

"Oh? She's awake." He called, as the other men emerged from the darkness. Turning back to her with a sneer, he smirked. "Not so tough now, Leidenschaftlich's Soldier Maiden? What a pushover." Stay silent. Do not respond to taunts or questions, and do not give information disloyal to my country and its allies or harmful to its cause.

One of the men, a young, ginger-haired boy spoke up. "We should bring her to the main command. The general should be made aware of our lucky catch."

"We will." Another spat. "That is, after we have had our fun." Fun? Raucous laughter sounded as the men crowded around her, pushing and shoving against her greedily. The rough movement flared her barely healed wounds from the previous fight, but she managed to keep her visage emotionless. The air was thick with malaise.

 

A hand grabbed her jaw, and pried it open, holding her mouth agape. His other hand held a pill of some sort, a white, innocuous-looking sphere which was shoved in her mouth, laying on the tip of her tongue.

"Eat up, my sweet." His grin was ominous, calculating. She tried to spit it out, but slick water was poured on her face and she was instantly gagging, choking, forced to swallow the pill with the water.

"Good girl." he stroked her cheek revoltingly.

 

Without warning, her clothes were ripped off her and calloused, grimy hands replaced them. A blindfold was tied around her eyes, and it took all of her will to remain silent against the unknown darkness.

"What a gem. Especially to be found on a battlefield like this." His saccharine hand stroked her hair. She was frozen in terror. What was this? She had never felt so helpless, vulnerable, open before. Her plans of escape were wiped from her mind. She gasped, and all she could concentrate on was kicking, struggling against her bonds to get out, to get free, to run away. She felt defenceless, powerless against the onslaught of feelings she had never dealt with, never learnt to deal with.

 

Until then, she had managed to remain silent, but her body seemed to be acting of its own accord.

She couldn't feel the tips of her fingers, and her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Hands ran up and down the length of her body leaving trails of thorns, while whispered words of encouragement gave way to revolting touches.

 

Suddenly, there was fire everywhere, burning, scorching, searing. The hands touching her were as torches pressed against her skin, caustic, and she tried to get away but she couldn't and there was suddenly everything everywhere. In the midst of her panicked haze, she screamed again and again the name of the one man whom she desperately wished to see.

 

Her mind went blank and she snapped her mouth shut as lips pressed close to her ear and hot breath hit her skin.

"Tsk, tsk, no-one's coming for you, you little deserter. They don't even know you're here. You should close those pretty lips of yours, and keep them shut, or I'll have to take measures. And you wouldn't like that, would you now?" An overwhelming feeling of stop touching me, get away from me came over her, and she almost shrieked again, if not for the cloth gag being tied around her mouth. She couldn't swallow, couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

"Now, isn't that better." His chuckle of delight was more frightening than any bloody corpse, any uncontrollable wave of soldiers, any gun pressed against her temple. The major would come. Definitely… or would he? Would he go into enemy territory to rescue a single soldier, was it logically worth the resources and effort it would take? Of course he wouldn't come, not for a discarded tool.

 

Major...

 

-

 

Abruptly, the hands touching her recoiled and shrill screams were heard as gunshots reverberated. A thud was heard, and the distinct, familiar metallic scent of blood filled her nose. After the first fall, more soon followed and the rest ran away, their screams faded, carried away by the wind. Unable to move an inch, she shivered in fear; Who were they? What did they want? Were they coming for her or the men?

 

Her worries were silenced with a single word.

"Violet." That voice was unmistakable; a voice she had known for as long as she could remember. But it was thick with pain and pity. "Dammit Violet, what did they do to you?" With her body oversensitive and her mind fogged with drugs and terror, the familiar hand against her cheek felt heavenly. She leaned into the touch as much as she could, and struggled against her gag.

"Shhh, I've got you." His hand reached around her, untying her gag slowly and pulling it out of her mouth.

The moment the gag was taken out, she breathed "Major?". Her mouth felt dry, and the feeling of her tongue against the walls of her mouth felt foreign to her; fuzzy and unnatural. The voice it produced sounded hoarse and croaky, even to her ears.

"Don't talk now. I'll take care of everything." His words were reassuring, and she would do anything he asked without hesitation.

 

His hands gently lifted the blindfold off her eyes, and her eyes flickered, seeking out the major's in the blur of dizzying light. His eyes always made something appear in her chest, a warmth, something kind and benevolent, something she had come to treasure.

 

"Major." Unlike the other, this was more a confirmation than a question, more an answer and comfort.

 

His hands grasped his knife, reaching above her to cut the first restraint against her wrist. Her arm felt heavy with the lack of blood circulation, and fell dead to her side. The other soon followed, and her body keeled over, the strain against her muscles proving to be too much. He was quick to catch her, and he deftly sliced through the other bonds on her ankles.

 

She fell into his arms, limbs heavy from disuse and exhaustion. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she cuddled into his arms, craving his touch.

 

He gently took her wrists into his hands, stroking the damaged skin tenderly. “Oh, Violet.” His expression filled those 2 words with so much more meaning. Reaching into his bag, he procured a white salve and bandages. The salve was cooling, and the pain was numbed at contact, almost like ice. His hands nimbly slid the bandages around her wrists and ankles, tying each one off with a small knot. Why was he paying this much attention to a lowly soldier?

 

Shivering, she mustered some energy and murmured softly through chapped lips "I deeply apologise for my untimely capture, major. Due to my current state, I will only be able to fight by t-"

 

Her words were cut off by the major's sigh. "Oh, Violet, don't you realize? You're not a tool, not a weapon, not some mindless killing machine that the world makes you out to be." Her soft intake of breath was clearly heard.

"But-" A finger was pressed against her lips as she was once again silenced. “You're a girl with feelings, with emotions.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Was her only answer.

 

He unclipped his thick coat and wrapped it around her still-quaking form, tucking it around the her and rubbing softly to generate heat. His presence and scent were almost ethereal, after what had happened. "What you feel right now is proof of that." He stroked her hair, more kind, more gentle than she had ever felt from anyone else.

 

Embraced against his chest, his comforting hands against her body, she was reminded of the first moment they had met. He had been the first to give her kindness, the first to treat her with something other than scorn. She would never forget that moment, the feeling of warmth and kindness. He had given her a name too, something to call her own, something to ground her.

 

"Major." Her voice caught. With these emotions running rampant through her, she realized what she had been to unable to say all these years.

 

"Thank you."

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
